


The Confessional

by xStephyG



Series: The Flower [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Confessional, F/M, Fluff, Pre-Relationship, The Chantry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 22:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7073059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xStephyG/pseuds/xStephyG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While hiding in the confessional, Evie is joined by not wholly unwelcome guest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Confessional

Evie ran through Haven’s Chantry as fast as her small feet could carry her. Every step was punctuated with a new face turning to gawk at the Herald of Andraste scamper across the stone floor like a mouse fleeing from a cat. The young mage did her best to not let the weight of their scrutinizing and reverent staring distract her. She needed to hide. She needed to hide immediately.

It was only moments before, when Evie had been standing just outside the Chantry’s large oak doors chatting affably with one of the sisters, that she spotted him. He was stomping toward her – or more likely the Chantry itself – wearing the scowl she had come to expect from him. In no more than a few seconds, she had excused herself from her conversation as politely as possible and darted between the doors into the Chantry. She had little desire to be subjected to another lecture. And frankly, the man frightened her.

Now she stood wild-eyed in the middle of the bustling Chantry, trying desperately to find a place to hide. It needed to be somewhere he wouldn’t enter or even think to check if, Maker forbid, he was actually looking for her.

That was when she spotted it. The confessional. Surely it was completely blasphemous to use such a sacred place to hide, but what other choice did she have? It was completely out of the question to actually face him. The list of things Evie feared had grown exponentially since becoming the Herald. If she had to put them to paper, the entirety of it would reach the Hinterlands from the Inquisition’s base in Haven. And facing that man alone was very near the top.

With a silent apology to the Maker, Evie ducked into the small confessional booth, making sure to take the side belong to confessors, lest one enter and mistake her for a Chantry sister. She backed into cramped wooden cage until her back connected with the far wall. Widened emerald eyes watched the thin door closely. The paltry, latticed window was placed far too high for the slight mage to gaze out of, but she would surely see a change in lights and shadows if someone were to approach her sanctuary.

She had just began to relax the barest amount when the light filtering through that very window disappeared. The whole world seemed to stand still for a moment. Evie’s chin unhinged itself, leaving her full, pink lips gaping. Her bountiful breasts heaved with every rapid breath she could manage. She struggled to focus her frazzled thoughts so she could come up with an excuse for being in there: for undoubtedly she would be questioned for hiding like a child from their mother at bath time.

Time not only restarted when the door began to open, but minutes seemed to speed by in the blink of an eye. Before Evie could register what was happening she found herself being nearly crushed under the bulk of armour, her freckled nose buried in dense, black fur. Every muscle in her body stiffened then. This could not be any worse unless every bear from the Hinterlands decided to join her as well. And in that moment, she would gladly take the bears. At least they would be a distraction.

Evie didn’t know what caused the Commander to turn suddenly, perhaps she had made a noise, or he could feel the weight of her body at his back, but she wished he hadn’t. It would have been preferable that he never known she was there.

“Herald!?” The Commander hissed lowly, his strong brow rising in clear shock. He winced the moment he spoke, glancing over his shoulder and lurching forward in the cramped space to envelope Evie in his bulk. Two large hands came to rest on either side of her, bracing his weight against the walls and framing her head of scarlet hair and violet mallows. He peered down at her, and even in the darkness of the confessional, she could see the pink staining his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

“Are you,” He paused to glance over his shoulder once more before continuing his barely whispered question. “Are you hiding from Roderick as well?”

Not once had Evie been this close to the former Templar and her not-so-innocent crush. She had never been so completely encompassed by him. His heat washed over her in waves, warming every inch of her quivering body. His weight pressed into her supple curves, causing her to strain toward him involuntarily so she could be entirely enfolded under him. His pungent, masculine scent invaded her nostrils, setting her blood to flames that scorched a path through her veins until it settled at the apex of her thighs.

Evie’s eyes darted frantically over the Commander’s face, flitting between the ever growing worry in his tender, amber eyes and the fading grin on his tantalizingly full scared lips. All the while, her body warred with her mind. Her instincts had her arching her back off the wooden wall, pressing herself toward him, welcoming him to close the distance between their bodies fully. But her mind screamed for her to stop, reminding her who he was, who she was. Emphasizing that he was not there because he wished to be, or wanted to be near her. He was there for a the same reason she had originally entered the confessional.

Flattening her back against the wall behind her, Evie lowered her gaze until she was tracing the rivets on his cuirass with her emerald eyes and nodded slowly. “He… he scares me.” She admitted sheepishly.

A hushed chuckle shook the Commander’s frame, sending a new flash of fire to Evie’s core and jolting a new set of admonishments to the forefront of her mind. He shifted his weight on his hands by her head, a leather-clad thumb brushing her cheek accidentally. It may have been unintentional but it didn’t stop the young mage from chasing greedily after the former Templar’s touch before she could stop herself.

When she did realise what she was doing, Evie quickly rolled her back into place. Lifting eyes that were filled with anxiety for an entirely new reason to the Commander’s face, she was taken aback by the expression she was greeted by. He was staring at her from under heavy eyelids, or more accurately, he was staring at her mouth. Movement lower caught her eye, pulling Evie’s focus down to his lips just in time to watch his tongue disappear back between his parted lips.

Evie’s head swam as sweet, humid breaths washed over her face, heating the already burning skin of her cheeks. Completely unbidden, her trembling hands rose from the wall behind her to rest on the Commander’s chest at the same time as one of his shaking hands slipped from the wall to cup her cheek. Her entire body shuddered and swayed under the Commander. She felt as though she would float away at any moment and the only thing keeping her anchored to the ground was the touch of the man enveloping her.

The Commander’s ardent gaze swept over her entire face, seemingly studying her reaction before he swallowed thickly. “Are you scared right now…?” He murmured as he began to slowly close the distance between their lips. His voice was pitched with an uncertainty his actions belayed. “I can… I’ll stop if you want me to.”

The sound that escaped from between Evie’s lips was like nothing she had ever heard herself produce before. The strangled and wanton whimper served no other purpose than to remind her how completely inexperienced she was. She began to shrink into herself, making a half-hearted attempt to flee from the one thing she had wanted more than anything from the Commander since she first met him on her way to the Breach.

But when he started to pull away, her desire overcame her embarrassment. Dainty fingers wrapped around the collar of his cuirass, stopping the Commander’s retreat. She pulled gently on the steel, silently begging him to keep going, to claim her lips as his. She needed him to kiss her now before she lost her nerve once more.

The light that suddenly poured into the dark confessional was blinding. Evie tore her hands from the Commander’s cuirass, slapping them over her eyes to both shield them from the light and hide like a small child from whomever had caught her with the Commander like this.

“So this is how the supposed ‘Herald of Andraste’ behaves?” The snide remark from Chancellor Roderick sent a spike of both fear and shame through Evie. She pressed herself flat against the wall at her back, beseeching the Maker to give her the ability to disappear into the wood and never be seen again. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Lady Trevelyan. And you, Commander, I should–”

“Chancellor Roderick.” The venom the dripped from the Commander’s growl could have come from a deepstalker. With her face still covered, Evie felt rather than saw him turn around to face the Chancellor. Peeking out from between her fingers, she watched awed as the Commander stormed out of the confessional, forcing the Chancellor back and away from her. “May I remind you that you are a guest here? Do you wish for me rethink the Inquisition’s hospitality toward you?”

Evie pushed herself off the wall with a resigned sigh. There was no use in hiding now. She had been caught. It was time for her belittling lecture. But before she could exit the confessional, the Commander turned once more to face her. Offering her an almost shy yet reassuring smile, he motioned toward the small seat she was standing in front of before gently closing the door.

“Hospitality!? You and your thugs have been nothing but rude and wholly unwelcoming. Why I have half a mind to…”

The Chancellor’s enraged and shrill ranting fading slowly into the distance as Evie sat down in the dark, confined space. She stared at the veiled window connecting the two sides of the confessional, the realisation of what she had nearly done, what she had been thinking and feeling, what she continued to think and feel in a Chantry of all places dawned on her.

Tipping her head back and squeezing her eyes shut, Evie did her utmost to banish the fervent lust that remained. But she could still feel his warmth, his scent lingered in the air, the weight of his body on hers ghosted over her as if he were still there. There was no running from the nearly pious desire she felt for Commander Cullen.

Opening her eyes, she stared at the roof of the small confessional. Her hands lifted from the balled up fists in her lap to clasp together in front of her chest. “Maker, I beseech thee, have mercy on my soul.”


End file.
